


Thank The Jukebox

by shawarmascene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sex in the Impala, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, possessive!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawarmascene/pseuds/shawarmascene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>If they were in a bed, Castiel would be folding Dean <b>in half</b></i>
</p>
<p>(or the one in which Cas gets jealous when girls flirt with Dean, but thinks he doesn't notice... that is until Dean pulls over.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank The Jukebox

**Author's Note:**

> more badly written porn courtesy of me (also this was written rather quickly so if there's any mistakes then I apologise profoundly and I'll edit later)

Castiel hates it when girls look at Dean like that. He hates the sparks behind their eyes as they flirt openly, and that suggestive grin on their faces when he replies. He hates the way they laugh when Dean makes an unfunny joke, or a dig about the food on the menu, or when he turns to Cas to make some form of remark. It's only a bit of fun, of course. Dean's humour is what makes him Dean, but Castiel can't help but feel that it should be _him_ making the other man smile, not anyone else.

Yes, Castiel hates how he's fallen so deeply for Dean. And he knows it shows, despite his best efforts to try and keep a straight-head. It’s so obvious though, even Sam's approached him once and asked straight up about his feelings for his brother - and yet Dean has no idea.

There were many things Cas wanted to say him; words twitching on the end of his tongue but, in times like these, he _always_ bites down on his lip to stop them rambling out, reminding himself that he needed to keep his emotions check. Of course these situations didn't happen often - he was usually calm, composed and level-headed because of distractions. Cas hardly ever got alone time with Dean. But when he did – well - wars raged in his head and chest, conflicting feelings fighting each other for dominance.

When Dean had grabbed him by his arm earlier in the day, insisting that they go to the nearest diner tonight, _just them two_ , Castiel couldn't say no. In fact, he was delighted, because this was the third time time this week that he had asked, which was highly unusual. The firm grip that Dean had on him in that moment wasn't only physical, but existed in every way possible. So who was Castiel to deny this man anything?

But here they were again, the night not quite meeting Castiel's expectations as he glared silently at the waitress who had her hand resting on Dean's shoulder. Dropping his gaze to his water before him, Cas mentally cursed whoever would listen; his alone time with Dean had been interrupted by another random girl, yet again, and he couldn’t keep himself from this jealousy that threatened to boil over at any moment. This had happened each time they went out together, he should have known better than to accept the invitation.

And, as usual, Dean wasn’t helping.

He was lounging back in his seat, oblivious to the way that Castiel was trying to hold back from bursting, from ranting and raving on and on about how much he needed Dean to be his. Instead, the other man just engaged with the pretty waitress, obviously encouraging and enjoying her flirtations. After a few moments, a soft melody echoed throughout the diner, a tune that Cas recognized instantly from Dean's record collection, and he felt his hands move their way to his own knees in order to stabilise himself. Because he knew what would happen next.

Dean's conversation with the waitress cut-off midway, but his face lit-up and wore a grin of genuine happiness. And it killed Castiel. The man that beamed in front of him, the one telling the women standing beside him just how much he loved this song, always looked so radiant in moments like this. It made Castiel's heart do painful back-flips. Dean's happiness was his own happiness, after all, but it just hurt him that he would never know how those lips tasted when laced with a smile.

And for the rest of their time there, the waitress made sure the jukebox constantly played classic rock, and Castiel thought his clenched fists were going to break beneath the table.

Hell had been Heaven compared to this.

 

\----

 

Dean had ended up writing his number on the bill, so Castiel fell off into a stiff silence as he told himself again and again that he would never, under _no_ circumstances, have dinner with Dean again. Though he knew he wouldn't be able to achieve that; he'd just have to pretend he had the will-power for the time being.

The ride back to the bunker was heavy with tension. Dean's eyes were focused on the dark road ahead, but Cas could feel the odd glance being cast in his direction. Fortunately, he had took to staring out the side window aimlessly, just so his own eyes wouldn't drag themselves to meet green ones every few minutes.

A shrill noise cut through the atmosphere and caused Dean to jump a little. His cellphone was ringing in spare space between the two men, and Castiel bore dark holes into dashboard with his gaze. Surely she wasn't calling already. It had only been ten minutes since they had left.

“'sup, Cas? You've been giving me one hell of a cold-shoulder all night.”

Castiel wanted to ignore him, but he also wanted to grab him and kiss him and tell him his painful unawareness brought out the worst side of himself. But, instinctively, all he said was, “aren't you supposed to answer that?”

Dean smiled at the road ahead. “The screen says it's Sammy, he can wait 'till we're back.”

“It could be important.”

“It always is, but he can wait.” Dean allowed his attention to stray towards Cas. “But don't pussy-foot around my question. What's got you all twisted?”

Castiel didn't answer, but turned back to keep staring at nothing outside. He didn't want to lie to Dean – and, quite frankly, he couldn't think of one fast enough - but he couldn't exactly tell the truth. That'd ruin everything.

Dean let out an amused huff, causing Castiel's eyes to shoot him a confused look. What was so funny? Where was the humour in all of this that Dean had managed to find? And then he noticed the dark shapes of the trees that flew by behind Dean's head were moving at a slower and slower pace and _oh. He _prayed _for lie to form quickly, because he was deep in it now.___

“C'mon, Cas, I ain't driving while you're sulking like your prom date ditched you.” Dean stated, as he pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine.

And if Castiel's ears didn't deceive him, he was _sure_ there was a smile entwined in those words, teasing almost. But he couldn't give up now. _No_. He had hidden his emotions for long enough to know how to get around a sticky situation like this. It was just unfortunate that he was pretty cornered right now.

“It's because of that waitress, isn't it?"

Castiel's head snapped up to meet Dean's gaze. Had he noticed the unbearably obvious display of jealousy in the diner? Surely he would have teased him for it there and then. Nevertheless, he could feel his ears and cheeks turning pink with the blush and embarrassment of being caught out. Upon seeing the other man's eyes widen, Castiel knew he'd given himself away.

“Are you jealous?” Dean asked innocently, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Why would I be jealous, Dean?”

The only answer he got was a sudden, hard kiss pressed to his lips, the urgency behind it was something he couldn't deny, no matter how taken aback he was. He tried not to jerk back as he felt fingers roaming up, gripping at the back of his neck hard and holding him there as teeth closed around his bottom lip. A sharp bite was given to it before a warm, restless tongue pushed through into his mouth, and Castiel did nothing to stop it happening.

He was powerless as Dean’s tongue explored his mouth, caressing and tantalizing and teasing and _wow_ , he was already cherishing the feel of those fingers forming a trail of heat down his back, before they finally gripped his waist and pushed him sideways.

Before he could even think about what was happening, Dean was straddling him, the position slightly awkward from the limited space that they had. Cas' back was pressed roughly against the door, but it was the last thing on his mind because his lips had moved themselves onto Dean's neck, trailing hot, wet kisses along sensitive skin before he gave a hard bite. This earned him a muffled gasp from the other man, and he tried not to smirk as fingers were wired in his hair, pushing him and permitting the action.

“ _Mine_.”

His growl was lost under the sound of Dean’s already heavy breathing, and Castiel’s fingers moved frantically, shoving the other’s light t-shirt in all directions and gripping at the fabric impatiently. After a few moments of relishing the feel of Dean's hot skin beneath the material, he yanked the t-shirt upwards so that he could take advantage of the exposed skin. One of Dean’s hands found the window of the car as Castiel started to go to work on his chest, nipping, licking and sucking at any part that appeared in his vision, his mouth falling open as the moans escaped him, over and over again. He couldn’t hold them back, not when he'd waited this long.

Dean's hips gave a sharp jerk as teeth bit down hard on his nipple, and he cried out as he began rolling his hips. Castiel marvelled at the friction he could feel and, despite the clothing in the way, the action seemed to only be coaxing his growing hardness. He felt Dean's tongue caressing his earlobe, before those teeth were moving elsewhere, dropping down along his jaw and neck and- oh, there'd definitely be some evidence of his presence left behind tomorrow, in the shape of scattered purple marks.

His mouth found Dean's shoulder again and once again his teeth sunk into the smooth skin.

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean groaned into his ear.

And Castiel wasn’t going to stop there. No, he was going to show Dean that he was most definitely _his_. He belonged to him - nobody else - and certainly not one of the many random girls that currently possessed a certain cellphone number scrawled on a diner bill. No. He could love Dean in so many ways, and he'd show him that.

One of Castiel's hands slipped easily behind the loose fabric of Dean’s jeans, sliding under his boxers to test how ready he really was. His other hand moved up, fingers pushing past full lips, and met with a ready and eager tongue.

Obviously they were both anticipating the same thing.

Dean teased Cas' fingers, sucking on them and trying to coat them as much as he could, knowing this was all the prep he was going to get given their situation. He was looking directly into Cas' eyes, back arched slightly as he kneeled over him, hips still rocking.

Castiel was still for a moment, just taking in the sight before him. How many times had he fantasised about having Dean this way? And here they were, in the _impala_ of all places. Food was barely even allowed in here, and yet no concern had been shown about the fact that worse things than Coke were going to be spilled on the seats.

Dean's let out a small whimper, probably desperate for attention, so Castiel pulled his hands back and roughly pulled open the front of Dean’s jeans before hoisting them down to his knees along with his boxers.

Cas brought both of his arms around the other man's waist, pulling him close as he leaned forward to position him on his back beneath him; hips slotted perfectly between Dean's when they spread automatically in the new position.

He lifted one of Dean's legs and draped it over the top of the front seat to gain better access. The man beneath him shifted a bit, struggling to find an angle for his leg as Cas slotted one finger inside of his tight entrance without much patience.

Dean's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back as his hands scrambled in the space above him to find something to hold onto. Cas brought his other hand to the obvious erection, pumping it lazily and watching Dean arch slightly beneath him. It was a beautiful sight, even in the evening's darkness.

One finger worked easily in and out of him now, so Castiel used two, then finally three. His hand on Dean's cock alternated between stroking the length and massaging the head where pre-cum leaked. Cas smiled at the insistent rocking of hips and the pleasurable expression growing on the face beneath him before green eyes suddenly emerged from behind eyelids to meet his own.

“I'm ready.” That husky voice made Castiel realise how silent they had been whilst they he had worked open the other man. He must had been too lost in the moment to notice.

Without hesitation, he undid his own jeans quickly, managing to tug them down just enough to free his own aching cock. Dean's highest leg moved again, spreading his legs even further apart, and Castiel took it as an invitation to position himself. He spat in his own hand and coated his impossibly hard cock as best as he could before guiding himself to Dean's entrance. With a quick confirmation glance into eager eyes, he guided himself in, cherishing the moan that escaped Dean’s throat. When Castiel was as deep as he could go, one of Dean's hands grasped on to his shoulder and pulled him down to meet him with a smash of lips.

It was hot – so, so hot around his cock and he loved it. The incredible tightness was welcomed dearly, even as he was still and waiting for Dean to adjust to the fullness. Eventually, Castiel began to move, slowly at first, but picked up a steady rhythm in no time. He kept kissing Dean as his thrusting became harder and deeper, and he felt finger's grasping hard into the flesh of his back. 

“Fuck, oh my- fuck!”

Dean's profanities littered the air when Castiel shifted his hips slightly. He grinned into collarbones, knowing he must have hit that sweet-spot.

“I did it all on purpose.” Words were mumbled into hair, but heard nonetheless.

Cas was confused initially, but after realising what the the other man meant, he picked up the pace of his thrusting and drove even deeper. If they were in a bed, Castiel would be folding Dean _in half_.

“Cas.” Dean gasped, wrapping his arms around his body tighter. “Jesus, Cas, I'm- Oh God, fuck-”

“You're what?” Castiel increased his pace, earning a elongated intake of breath from the man below.

He could hear the firm undertone his own voice, his arms now straightened at either side of Dean's head, allowing him the angle to hit the prostate again and again and again.

“Say it, Dean.”

“I’m- yes, _there_!”

Their breathing was harder now, and hands still desperately clutched onto Castiel’s shoulders, nails probably leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin. They were both close. Cas could feel the the heat beneath his stomach growing, ready to release any second.

“You're _mine_.” Dean growled unexpectedly as his back arched and his neglected cock spilled white over his stomach.

Suddenly, the desire in Castiel exploded when the tightness clenched around him; body shaking uncontrollably with the pleasure. He could feel his own release filling Dean's insides as he gave a final few thrusts to finish them both off, a few involuntary groans leaving him.

He pulled out slowly, closing his eyes and leaning back against the coldness of the door, shivering when the cold condensation of the window came into contact with his flushed skin.

The unfamiliar weight of a body pressed against his chest and legs; a great joy to Cas' senses. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Dean just resting against him like it was the most normal thing in the world, breathing still uneven. And he'd never felt so content.

“Y'know, Cas, you turn all pink when you're jealous.”

Castiel tipped his head back against the window and smiled into the air, giving nothing but a soft hum as an answer.

Dean suddenly moved and pressed a soft, loving kiss to his lips. “That's why I always hit on girls when you're around. 'Cause I like seeing you blush.”


End file.
